Picking Up The Pieces
by BiteMarks
Summary: How do you how do you recover when you've lost the love of your life? Beth finds out in this dark little tale. This has an R rating for adult, and dark themes.


**A/N:** _The opening paragraph was written as part of the challenge by francis, and the title was suggested by Bank1115_

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**Picking Up The Pieces**

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She ran out of reasons to stay inside. It was way too early but she couldn't contain her excitement anymore. Putting a stray strand of hair back into the clasp she pushed the sliding doors to the garden open and carefully stepped barefoot over the rough tiles of the patio.

She breathed in the warm evening air and felt a sense of tranquillity descend on her for the first time since Mick had left her. Those dark days now seemed a long way behind her. A long time, and a whole different person ago, she thought,and grimaced as the last rays of the setting sun flared briefly across her face. Those first few months alone had been hell, had changed her forever. She remembered feeling as if her innermost being had broken into a million insignificant pieces, melted silently away and disappeared.

At first, Josef had been as shocked as she when he'd heard that after a year together, Mick had quietly told her he needed some time apart, packed his bags and left.

In hindsight, it should have been obvious. She remembered her dawning concern as after a month together, his smile began to fail to reach his eyes, and after two, the kisses that should have met her lips, somehow ended on her cheek instead.

At first, she thought he was working so hard on his cases he was wearing himself out, not leaving enough time or energy for the usual physical intimacies. As time went on, however, and the work demands changed but his fatigue did not, she began to think that this was merely an excuse, not a reason for his painful withdrawal, but a symptom of it.

Finally she confronted him, asked him point blank if there was someone else, for what else could she think?

She knew, when he looked her in the eye for the first time in months and asked her to sit down, that her life was over, that if he told her they were finished, she would die.

So she sat and listened in growing horror and disbelief as Mick told her in a halting, apologetic voice, that he had been thinking more and more of Coraline, of the sacrifice she had made for him, exchanging herself for him, for giving him what he wanted most, a chance for a normal human life. Well, it hadn't turned out that way, and despite his new human life having been lost; he felt he needed to repay her. His voice rang like a bell in her memory:

_I'm sorry Beth, but I won't abandon her to her brother's mercy. I feel badly that I've left it this long. _

If it hadn't been for Josef she would have gone mad.

"I thought he'd really kicked that particular bad habit this time, Buzzwire. I'm sorry," he'd said and put a comforting hand on hers.

He'd been kind, trying to help her understand and forgive Mick's obsession. "They've been each other's itch for over fifty years, Blondie. It's a sickness."

He'd listened and given her handkerchiefs, only Irish linen or Italian silk of course, during the endless months first of her crying, then of her pleading.

And finally, sick of her whining, he'd arrived at her apartment with a bevy of freshies, ordered her out of bed and into a shower, and given her some advice. "Get a hobby, Beth. It'll take your mind off things.

For the first time Beth had felt the stirrings of her old self, the one with initiative and drive. She remembered her favourite childhood pastime, a sport requiring balance, concentration and focus - just the thing to keep her mind distracted and her body in tune. And wonder of wonders, as she devoted herself to it, she had time to think, time to heal, and she felt that a new piece of her had formed to replace one she had lost.

And that seemed to help for a while, until she'd mastered the art, becoming better at it than those her taught her. And when it became apparent that she was slowly sinking back into the same morass of self-pity and depression she'd crawled out of, Josef had sighed in irritation, stroked her hair off her forehead and said in an impatient voice, "Try not to focus on your problems so much,baby doll. Get off your ass and do something for others. Dr Phil says that works."

So she'd done that too. She quit her job with Talbot and followed in her mother's footsteps, going back to school to study nursing. As she studied, she slowly began to understand that while the body heals with time, often the mind and the heart need something more. Broken bones knit, wounds could be stitched, but loneliness was an aching void only Mick could fill.

Then, suddenly, she knew what she had to do to be completely whole again. She needed to find Mick and show him how she had grown and changed and he would love her again and never leave her.

And in the end, despite Josef's refusal to help her, it hadn't been that difficult - with a little help from Logan. Lovely little Logan had been almost insultingly easy to persuade. She smiled at the memory and thought he'd not forget their exchange anytime soon.

She sighed with contentment, and glanced at the table set for two. It was time to prepare for her guests. Tonight was a special night, a very special night. Tonight she was having both Mick and Josef for dinner for the very first time. The doorbell rang. She took a last breath and stepped back into the house.

Their eyes locked for an endless moment in the open doorway.

"Hello, Beautiful," he said and bent to kiss the nape of her neck.

She smiled and rested her hand on his chest for a moment. "I'll get you a drink," she murmured.

She walked to the kitchen and poured a glass of red wine, then glanced to make sure she couldn't be seen and hurried down the stairs to the basement. She pulled a lever to open a door that not even Josef, the one who'd bought her this house, knew was there, and stepped into the tiny air lock.

Her steps echoed hollowly in the chamber beyond.

"Good evening, Coraline," she crooned to the still figure lying on the floor, and walked over to check that her arrow was still in place in the centre of her chest. A three-hundred-year-old vampire really wasn't that difficult to defeat she thought, shaking her head in wonderment and giving silent thanks to Josef for giving her the push she needed to re-awaken her interest in her childhood passion, archery.

"Good evening, Mick," she smiled seductively to the slim figure manacled to the wall. She walked slowly toward him, admiring his handsome face and still firm body.

"Beth, please, I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes pleading. "Let us go."

He really does have the most beautiful eyes, she thought, as she lifted the bandage from his forearm and checked the tiny cut she'd made so long ago.

"That's almost healed," she said brightly, smiling up into his eyes. "Time for another dose."

She opened the small silver container Coraline had so helpfully given her directions to after she'd lied and promised to remove the stake, and applied a little of the contents to his cut. She checked the drip that kept him nourished and hydrated, and leaned in as if to lightly brush his lips with hers. Her incisors lengthened and with a delicate finesse, after all she didn't want to hurt him, she pressed her fangs to his jugular and sipped the ruby droplets that flowed from the perforations.

Josef had finally given in to her constant pleading and said he hoped it would make her happy. She flicked a tiny drop of Mick's blood into her wine and swirled it. Oh she wasn't happy, but somehow, picking up the pieces just didn't seem that hard anymore.

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End file.
